Chase
by Soulreciever
Summary: For a long while he simply stares at the paper, a numb detachment filling his heart as he scrabbles to understand the terrible nightmare that he has fallen into. Potential slash, mixed canon, angst.
1. Loss

Chase.

1.Loss.

T: Hello! Hello! Welcome to the rather experimental, emotional rollercoaster ride that is 'chase', we would like to inform passengers that this fic contains; angst, OOC, mixed cannon, a potential for slash and flashing lights! We would also like remind passengers that the characters and locations used in this fic are owned by Yoko Matsushita and her powerful imagination!

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He'd spent the better part of his weeks budget and yet, if the item in question had the desired effect, it was worth more than twice that expense.

Taking a deep breath, he glances into the bag once more, then, carefully arranging his emotions, he knocks solidly on the door.

He continues to knock for what seems like hours before his concern becomes enough that he places social protocol to one side and lets himself into the house.

Both the hallway and the living room are littered with objects that have quite clearly been thrown, yet it is the small trail of blood winding its way through this devastation to the bathroom which turns the concern in his heart to panic.

Upon entering the small bathroom he is met not, as he had feared, with the sight of his partner being held at knife point, but rather with an empty room and a piece of paper stick to the cabinet that balances above the sink.

There are stray smudges of dried blood on the edges of the paper, this a detail that he pushes to the back of his mind as he registers his partner's sure hand scrawling its way across the thing.

He reads these words once, twice, thrice and then proceeds to faint.

When he regains consciousness he is in the familiar surrounding of the bureaux's infirmary, Watari's face complete with a 'concerned smile', hovering a few feet above him.

"Welcome back." The other remarks as he straitens himself out.

"Why am I here, Watari?

For a moment the scientist looks uncertain of himself and then, his smile tightening into something altogether false, he enquires,

"You had a bit of a shock, Tsu, don't you remember?"

"I remember going to Hisoka's house to apologise for upsetting him…I'd bought him that book that he's been after in hopes of paving things over…he didn't answer and so I let myself in…" He trails as he realises that he can recall nothing of what had happened next, that the 'shock' Watari had talked of had robed those memories from him.

Seeing his distress Watari settles onto the foot of his bed and, his smile becoming again, despite the sorrow contained within it, true, he says,

"It seems that Bon lost his temper last night and threw a few things around his house. When he tried to clean up after himself a little later on he ended out cutting himself badly enough that he had to hold the wound over his bathroom sink while it healed. Of course, he should have come strait to me, but Bon being Bon…"

"You're rambling." There is more impatience than good humour in his tone and at the sound of it Watari becomes uncharacteristically sober.

The silence draws out a great while and then, in a tone he recognises all to well from the weeks after Kyoto, the other says,

"While waiting for his wound to heal Bon wrote a note and stuck it to the cabinet above his sink. You found that note when you went to see him…"

"And it was that that caused me to faint." As he speaks those words the memories bloom in his head…

…memories of scattered debris about Hisoka's living room…

….memories of blood and the sudden terrible thought that Muraki had once again crossed into the Mefu…

…memories of a blood stained slip of paper and the words written upon it.

"Where is it?"

"I've got it." The scientist responds before saying, "It might be a good idea to wait a little before reading it again, Tsu. Give yourself chance to deal with the situation."

He suppresses the sudden flash of anger that the statement insights in his heart and, as gently as he is able, informs the other,

"I have no want to 'get used' to this, Watari. I want to understand why Hisoka has done this thing and then I want to find him…want to bring him back where he belongs."

After another long moment of silence the scientist delves into one of the many pockets on his lab coat and, once he has freed the note, passes it into his care.

'_I am leaving of my own free volition. I have not been forced nor bribed in any manner. This is simply something that I need to do. I do not want to be found…not even by you.'_

The words are as cold and as detached as he recalls, their precise phrasing giving no room for re-interpretation or hope.

For a long while he simply stares at the thing, a numb detachment filling his heart as he scrabbles to understand the terrible nightmare that he has fallen into.

Eventually he reaches the clear understanding that he shall not gain such clarity alone, that there is but one individual who can bring order to the chaos and, crunching the note into a small ball, he says,

"I'm going after him."

"Then I'm coming with you."

…………………………………………………………………………..

There is an overwhelming edge of suspicion coming from the woman at the desk and he is unsurprised when, but a moment later, she informs him,

"We don't allow guests under the age of thirteen to check in without being accompanied by an adult."

Squashing down the frustration the comment causes he pulls his id from his back pocket and presents it to the woman. Her suspicion lingers a moment more and then the emotion is consumed by embarrassment.

He weathers her apologies with a liar's smile, gives her his false credit and residency details, kindly dismisses her offer of aid and, once she has given him the directions to his room, bids her a soft farewell.

It is an illusion he retails until the very instant that his hotel room doorway clicks behind him and then he becomes again the cool, hard headed, young boy who had so heartlessly abandoned his partner in his hour of need.

He can not allow himself to dwell on this fact, can not allow himself to think of Tsuzuki at all.

He has, after all, something that he needs to do, something that he should have done right at the very start before the whole affair had become so very 'complex'.

He knows that he needs to remain focused onto that goal, knows that if his mind wavers, even for the briefest second, all shall be lost.

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T: Expect the next chapter Tuesday at the latest. Review??


	2. Agitation

2. Agitation.

T: Welcome to part two of 'chase' the management would like to inform you that warnings remain the same and that they can claim no ownership rights over anything other than the plotline.

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"…not really listening are you?" The enquiry is made in the softest of tones and yet he knows this voice well enough to detect the edge of frustration wrapped amid this gentility and to temper his response of, "Forgive me, Uyoko," in order to placate the other.

It is a technique that works well for, stretching across the table to take his hands into her own, his wife says, "I would like to feel that you would talk to me if something was troubling you, Kazutaka," worry, rather than irritation, now the dominant emotion in her voice.

"As I would, love."

"Yet ever since those thugs stabbed you last year it's been as though you are someone other than yourself…as though you are keeping something from me…" She trails then, hesitant to say anything further for risk of upsetting herself and thus exposing her weaker nature in so public a location.

Lifting her hands to his lips he kisses each in turn and then says,

"I suspect that the matter has affected me more deeply that I would care to admit. Tomorrow I shall make a point of going to see Dr Nagari and organising a few sessions with him."

"I could not ask such a thing of you, Kazutaka, especially when I know how you feel about psychoanalysis."

"In order to relieve the worry from you mind I would gladly endure much worse than a few sessions with Dr Nagari, love." The words bring a gentle flush of pleasure to her cheeks and with that the matter is dismissed.

"You wouldn't have happened to see a young boy recently, would you?" The enquiry comes during a lull in conversation and is so unexpected that he has to ask his wife to repeat it before he is able to respond,

"You shall have to be a little more specific, love."

"I have a photo of him somewhere in my bag." She remarks as opens the object in question and begins to rifle through its contents.

"Might I ask what it is about this boy that has you intrigued enough to take a photo of him?"

"There is nothing specific, just simply an odd draw. Ah, here we go!" She remarks as she pulls the photo from her bag and passes it into his care.

Depicted there in pinpoint accuracy is the pail completion, childlike bone structure and wide verdant eyes of one Kurosaki Hisoka, yet after staring at the thing a moment longer, he informs his wife,

"I'm afraid I've not treated anyone who looks even remotely like this child. Permit me to keep the photo and I will see if anyone else in the hospital knows who he is."

"Thank you, Kazutaka."

…………………………………………………………………………….

She has decided to take advantage of the fine weather and do her paperwork in the small courtyard that sat at the back of the building. It is a location that eases the hardship she finds always in this particular task and relaxes her enough that, before she is aware, she is singing softly to herself as she works.

Her voice steadily increases in volume right until the instant that realises that she is being watched and then it dies entirely.

Feeling slightly abashed at being caught in so frivolous an activity she turns to offer her apologies and is met with the living image of the boy from the photo currently in her husband's possession.

"You shouldn't be here," She informs him as she gains her feet.

"I had permission." The emotionless tone of the response fits well with the general air of apathy that surrounds the child and that further intensifies the pity that she feels for him.

"You are Muraki Uyoko-san?" The other enquires after a moment of silence.

Though she has a want to know how this boy has gained 'permission' to be in this place and why he has chosen her out of all the other people in Tokyo who might be of more aid to him, she does not ask him either of these questions but rather chooses simply to respond to his enquiry by saying,

"I am."

"Your husband is Muraki Kazutaka, is that not so?"

"He is."

Neither the boy's expression nor posture alters and yet it seems to her as though he has become suddenly more focused…as though he has been filled suddenly with an odd sort of anticipatory excitement.

"Would you give him this?" He enquires as he closes the distance between them and passes a sealed envelope into her care.

She stairs at the thing for a brief moment and then she enquires,

"You are a stranger to my husband, is that not so?"

"It is." The boy seems to understand her meaning for, but an instant after giving this reply, he says, "He is known to a friend of mine."

"Then this note is from that friend?"

"It is."

"Might I be able to have a name?"

"Tsuzuki Asato."

There is something in the way that the other speaks this name, some softening of his features, that tells of a great depth of care and, placing the note into her bag, she says,

"I'll make sure that he gets it."

"Thank you."

"Would you care to join me for a little something to eat? There's a little pastry shop just up the road that sells the most amazing western style deserts." She remarks just as the boy reaches the exit.

He lingers in the open doorway a moment, the light from the hall behind him casting his features into darkness, still she believes that there is the faintest of smiles on his lips when he responds,

"I need to get back, but thank you for asking."

Once he has gone she loops her bag over her shoulder, bundles her paperwork into her arms and returns to her desk.

"Did that boy find you?" The enquiry comes from her business partner and long term aquantence Akiko Yuki and, turning to her left in order that she might better see the other, she responds,

"He did."

"Is he the one that you were telling me about last week?"

"Yes."

"So who is he and why has he been following you?"

"He wanted me to give a note to Kazutaka…as to his identity…"

"You didn't find out, did you?"

"No."

"You've no sense of adventure, Uyoko." Yuki remarks before she turns her attention back to her desk.

She knew that Yuki was right, knew that she should have pushed a little harder in order that she might clear away the mysteries surrounding the boy and the draw she felt from him…however…

In truth she is afraid of the unknown that the boy represents, can not help but feel that the child holds some terrible secret that could well undo the very foundation of her world.

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T: Uyoko is an unknown element to me as I've only read as far as volume 11 of the manga, thus I've taken the little that I've created the sort of character I could well imagine Muraki falling for!

Review?


	3. Trail

3. Trail.

T: For warnings/disclaimers please see previous chapters. (In other words I have lost inspiration as far as the fun warning and disclaimer thing goes!!)

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It had been amusing to learn that Kurosaki had not only chosen to search him out but that, for the moment at least, the other seemed to have no malevolent intent towards him.

When he learns that the child had approached his wife, that the other had not only retained his illusion, but used his precious partner's name to do as such, this amusement deepens into a genuine intrigue.

Thus he does not, as he might otherwise have done, burn the letter once his wife retires to bed, but rather breaks open its seal and pulls free a firmly folded letter and a hotel room key.

The letter is scribed in an ordered, educated, hand that can only belong to the boy and is written more in the tone of one aquantence writing to another, than that of a victim writing a letter of entrapment to he who had perpetrated the crime.

'_Muraki, _

_It has been a year since Kyoto, since the fire and the taint that event has left upon all our lives. I have known that you were alive still from the very instant that I came back to myself…have known this truth and have debated what I should do with that knowledge. I have decided, at last, to do as I have done…to find you and to put an end to everything that lies between us once and for all. _

_I am staying in the Miyagi-inn under the assumed name of 'Saki', the key will allow you into the room should I be absent upon your arrival._

_Kurosaki Hisoka.'_

Intrigued as to how the boy intends to 'put an end' to their association, to why the other feels so very confident that he shall come to him, to what has spawned so direct a course of action to begin with and, perhaps most importantly, why the boy has not brought his partner with him, he slips the key into his pocket and, once he has written his wife a note to explain his absence, he heads for the Miyagi-inn.

………………………………………………………………………………..

Having spent the best part of a week searching every possible location that held significance to his partner and finding nothing he is, unsurprisingly, feeling both aggravated and despondent.

Watari has done all that he can to erase these negative emotions, even going so far as to purchase the small pile of deserts that they are currently eating their way through.

"Maybe he's gone to Kanagawa." The scientist remarks as he extricates a chocolate éclair from the pile.

"Why do you say that?"

"He doesn't want to be found, right, so wouldn't it makes sense to go somewhere that we wouldn't look for me?" The scientist enquires as he takes a bite out of his chosen treat.

The logic is fairly sound and, a terrible creeping certainty making its way into his head, he enquires,

"What if he is not in an unexpected location but in unexpected company?"

For a moment Watari does not seem to comprehend what it is that he is suggesting and then, his manner becoming once more uncharacteristically sober, he enquires,

"You can't mean that he's gone to Muraki?"

"Indeed I do."

For a moment more Watari looks uncertain and then, a soft smile blooming onto his lips, the other says,

"You know that's actually a rather sensible suggestion, Tsu."

"It had to happen at some point." The false levity contained within that comment serves to further improve Watari's mood and his own and, for a brief while, they fall into a companionable silence.

Eventually Watari breaks this hush with the enquiry of,

"So how do we, with nothing at our disposal other than this swiftly reducing pile of deserts, my brains and your charm, manage to do what the Ministry, with all its technology and manpower, can not?"

"We follow his path back, talk to everyone we know he has associated with over the years, ask the sort of questions the Ministry would not wish us to ask and we keep on pushing until someone gives us the answer we're after."

"I'll go back to the Ministry and get us a list of everyone with even the most tenuous of connections with him."

"I'll go and make sure that Hisoka is not somewhere in Kanagawa."

"I'll meet you there then."

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After securing both himself and Watari a cheep hotel room for the night he makes a b-line for the closest pub.

The bartender, a typical middle aged, bolding and overweight, man, welcomes him with the bright enthusiasm of one recognising a 'meal ticket; and, after pouring him a shot of whisky, enquires,

"So what brings you to this neck of the woods?"

"A murder."

The bartender breaks into a forced laughter and, his voice sounding painfully strained, he says,

"You've come to the wrong town then."

"Strange, I was certain that the article said that it occurred in Kanagawa." He remarks as he pulls a newspaper clipping from his trouser pocket, "Why don't you look for yourself," he remarks as he passes the thing into the bartender's care.

The gentleman scans the clip, his skin paling considerably as he reaches the more graphic details and his manner becoming less 'welcoming' and more 'suspicious'.

"That matter was over and done with years ago. We've no want for it to be dredged up again," The other responds as he passes the clipping back into his care.

"Yet I need to 'dredge' the matter if I am to get any closure. The woman who died that night was my fiancée, you see."

"Really? I heard nothing of a fiancée in the weeks after the matter and there was certainly no mention of such a creature in that article of yours…"

"Kasama was against our getting engaged and so we were keeping the matter to ourselves until her ill health at last got the better of her…of course I wish now that we had made more of an effort to win her over and perhaps then Yuri would still be with me rather than…" He trails and after making a deliberate show of tossing down his drink and wiping away his 'tears', he says, "I'd thought to come here the day that Yuri died but I was called away to an assignment in America and kept there for four years…time enough, apparently, for the government to cover the matter over and for the locals to learn to plead ignorance every time someone raised the matter."

"So you've come here in the hopes that someone will get off their head enough to chat to you about the affair…to tell you something that will clear away what ever niggling doubt you have in your mind and allow you to lay your fiancée's soul at last to rest?"

"I know it sounds foolish but it's the last hope I have."

"Look there's this guy, Mirani Yamato, who might be willing to help you without the need to ply him with booze first."

"Would you have an address for this individual?"

"Give me a minuet and I'll write you down the directions."

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T: Next chapter up on Sunday! Review?


	4. Past

4. Past.

T: Slight cliff-hanger but other than this warnings remain the same. I own nothing that you see here other than the plot bunny.

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"Yes?" The enquiry comes from a rather handsome young man who looks to be in his mid to late twenties and, surreptitiously glancing at the directions that the bartender had given to him, he enquires,

"Would you be able to tell me where I can find Mirani Yamato?"

"That's me." The other responds, his mouth twisting into a charming smile before he enquires, "Can I help you?"

"I was told that you were the one to talk to about the murder of Endo Yuri."

"You'd better come in." The other remarks as he moves slightly to one side in order to allow him into the house.

Once his front door is closed Mirani-san guides him through a tight corridor into a western style living room.

"Take a seat." His host remarks as he settles himself onto a high backed and highly padded chair.

Once his host is assured that he is comfortable he enquires,

"Are you a detective for this world or the next?"

"How…"

"Did I know? Tousama spent his lives work investigating the many mysteries of the spiritual world and passed both the legacy and the interest in that subject onto myself."

"I see." He takes a moment to think through the correct course of action and then he says, "I'm a Shinigami."

"Then you'll be wanting to hear about the Kurosaki boy rather than about Endo-san, correct?"

Squashing the rush of excitement that courses though him at the sound of Hisoka's name he smiles what he hopes is a 'professional smile' and responds,

"That is correct."

"That night it was unbearably hot, the sort of dry heat we've not experienced your years before or since. The Kurosaki household staff would later claim that it'd been this heat that'd made the child restless, but the truth was that it was the emotions of the killer and Endo-san that'd disturbed their young master's sleep pattern. Those emotions also drew Kurosaki-kun towards the murder that was being committed and into the most precarious of situations." He pauses a moment, most likely to gauge his reaction to the tail so far and then he says, "The initial reports of the crime claimed that, in an attempt to cover his tracks, the murderer then led a brutal attack on the young child and subsequently fled the scene. This was not, of course, the complete truth and yet it was a more realistic depiction of events than later reports which made no mention of a witness at all."

"What was the 'complete truth' then?"

"Endo-san's murder brutally raped Kurosaki-san and used his 'bodily fluids' to scribe a vicious curse into the boy's skin that would take three years to finally kill him. I have a list here of the injuries the boy sustained during the 'event'," Mirani-san remarks as he pulls a thin folder from the side of his chair, extricates a slip of paper from the thing and passes it to him.

He reaches only the second thing on the list before he feels nauseous and returns it to the other,

"Why show me this?"

"Because you needed to see it, needed to understand what it was that Kurosaki-san's parents understood and what they subsequently covered over."

"But why?"

"Because it'll help you to understand why his spirit has lingered so very long and perhaps help you to give it peace at last."

He has to put all his effort into retaining his composure, into making it seem as though he had known all along of the 'restless sprit' and suppressing the desperate hope that has bubbled in his heart for the information that he might have found his partner at last.

Only once he is assured that he has done as such dose he enquire,

"Could you take me to where the boy's spirit has been seen with the most frequency?"

"Of course." The other responds as he gains his feet.

Mirani-san spends the journey discussing the spiritual world with him, the enthusiasm the younger man has an infectious thing which has him smiling right up until the very instant that they reach their destination.

For Mirani-san has brought him within inches of the spot that had, so many years previous, witnessed the terrible event that would, eventually, lead to Hisoka's death.

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T: Next chapter wed at the latest! Review??


	5. Contemplation

5. Contemplation.

T: Up today because I had a huge waft of inspiration last night and managed to pen down a whole chapter in about a half hour! Huge cliff-hanger warning for the end of this chapter (I'm so sorry) and at last the slash makes its first tentative steps out of the shadows!

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He has only to step into the shade of the sakura to know that he has been deliberately led to this place, to know that the 'haunting' have been little more than a clever ploy to stall his progress for the briefest of instants.

He can not but wonder at the other's choice of distraction, can not but wonder if Hisoka had intended it as some oblique show of trust or if there is something else behind the gesture…

…wonders whether the other had constructed the whole affair as a sign that Hisoka truly had no wish for him to chase him, that the other was willing to expose even his most painful of secrets in order to prevent him from doing as such.

He sends Mirani-san on his way with a false promise to return once he has 'removed' the spirit and, thus at last alone, he settles himself down against the sturdy support of the tree's trunk.

In his minds eye he pulls forward the image of his partner, gives the thing enough substance and texture that, as long as he resists the temptation to reach out for the other, he can fool himself into believing that the younger man is at his side again. This particular 'trick' is one that he had used often since Kyoto in order to diminish the fear and the loneliness that plagued him during the night.

"What do you want me to do, Hisoka?" The phantom makes a displeased face and, bopping him once about the head, says,

"_Baka! I want you to be happy."_

The words bring a bitter sweet smile to his lips and, looking the phantom in the 'eyes' he enquires,

"Then why did you leave?"

It is a question that the phantom can not answer for him and, this silence eroding its 'realism' the thing fades again into the ether.

He remains propped against the sakura for the longest of times, allowing his mind to work over the issues in hand without adding the complication of his emotions.

He is pulled, eventually, from this trance by the soft pressure of a hand on his shoulder and the enquiry of,

"How about we get you back to the hotel?"

"Watari, what would you do in my place?" He enquires as he gains his feet.

"I'd trust my heart." The other responds.

"So who are we going to see first?" He enquires after a long moment of silence.

A wide smile blooms onto the scientists lips then and he responds,

"We don't need to go and see anyone."

"You mean you've found him already?"

"I have been informed that he never actually went into hiding and that, feeling it prudent to keep his whereabouts from Bon an yourself until such a point where you could both deal with such information in a 'mature' manner, Kaichou decided to 'garnish the truth' a little."

Deciding that it is best to keep his opinion on such a choice to himself he enquires,

"Where is he?"

"Tokyo."

…………………………………………………………………………..

The woman at the desk is a previous patient and she keeps him for much longer that he would have desired with idle chatter. Despite this he finds that he has no need for the key in his pocket, finds the boy's hotel room door unlocked and the boy himself sat at the edge of his bed, his posture an anticipatory tautness of one impatiently awaiting company.

"Take a seat." The words are neither absent pleasantry nor harsh command but rather and odd mix of the two that further intensifies the general ambivalence that surrounds this meeting.

Settling onto the chair that has been placed, calculatedly, directly in the boy's eye line; he waits for the other to 'begin proceedings'.

He has but a short wait for, but a minute after he has taken his seat, the boy rolls up the sleeves of his shirt in order to expose the red fire of his curse marks then says,

"You told me once that these makes bonded us together, that as long as they were there upon my skin you would be in my head,"

"Yes?"

"Remove them." There is a force in the command that amuses him greatly and prompts him to enquire,

"Will you threaten to expose my secrets should I not do as such, bouya? Or perhaps you thing to threaten my life instead?"

"What use would there be in doing such things?"

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T: Next chapter wed. Review?


	6. Confrontation

There's yet another cliff-hanger at the end of this chapter so I apologise in advance! Other than this warnings remain fairly well the same and I still own nothing other that the plot.

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It has been a week since he came to this place, since he put aside all thoughts of family and of love.

It is time that he has spent familiarising himself with the city and with the life that _he_ has led since the fire.

He has met the woman who has tied to her life to _his_, has seen how very similar she was to Tsuzuki and had found an odd sort of amusement in this similarity.

He has made his place and then, in a calm, ordered, manner, had executed them with a precision that Tatsumi would have been proud of.

He had then settled down to wait, nervous anticipation as a firm knot in his stomach that he can not quite erase.

Then, at the edge of his empathic awareness, he feels _him_.

With the shadow and the fractured edges of _his_ emotions so getting closer by the instant his fear begins to claim him and, taking a deep breath, he visualises how this encounter shall unfold.

Pictures _him_ breaking away from the woman at the desk, the irritation he feels at being kept so long an emotion that is swiftly consumed by _his_ antipathy.

Pictures the door opening and _him_ stepping into the room.

Pictures the detachment he will express towards the other, how he shall raise the subject of his curse and then surprise the other by stating that he has no intention of threatening either _his_ happiness or _his_ life.

He has just begun to create an image of how matters shall continue from this instant when a slight sound from the hall tells him that _he_ has arrived.

The door opens an instant later and as _he_ steps over the threshold all of his careful planning and inspirational visualisations fall to pieces. For, faced again with the full intensity of _his_ emotions and the undeniable proof that _he_ lives still, he can think only of Kyoto.

Of the one terrible instant where he believed he had lost everything precious to him and the painstaking months that had followed that time.

A smile blooms onto _his_ face and, after crossing the space between them; _he_ leans towards him and says,

"I had started to hope that you had become interesting, bouya, yet it seems that that is not the case."

He wishes to respond, to find again the confidence that had brought him to this point in the first place and yet he knows that such wishes are in vain, knows that his fear has again gotten the better of him.

For the deepening of _his _smile _he_ is also aware of this fact, indeed, but an instant later _he_ enquires,

"Why did you seek me out bouya when you knew that it would come to this? When you knew that you shall never grow beyond me?"

Coarse, hot, anger ignites in his blood and, before he is aware, he has his hands about _his_ throat, the contact causing his curse marks to flair into life.

"You see, even now you are tied to me, bouya." _He_ remarks, _his_ voice matching well the continued mix of amusement and calm that dominates _his_ emotions.

With the memory of Kyoto, of the deep emotional scars that _he_ had inflicted upon Tsuzuki, heavy still in his mind he allows his anger to push aside his fear and become as an invisible hand to level at _him_ as he says,

"LET ME GO."

_He _breaks free from his grip but an instant later, the sweat on his forehead and the speed of his breath as the only tells that he has been at all affected by this psychic shockwave.

"It seems I was a little too hasty in my assessment of your progress, bouya." _He _remarks as _he_ places a distance between them. "Thus you must believe that it hurts me to do this," _his_ hand raises and the curse sparks again across his skin.

The pain that accompanies the awakening of the marks is so intense that, quite against his will, his body crumbles to the floor and attempts to curl in on itself.

"What are you doing?"

The enquiry is a hard rasping effort which leaves him exhausted enough that he is able only to hear _him_ respond, "Exterminating a particularly resilient nuisance," before the world begins to swim out of focus.

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T: Don't kill me! Next chapter Sunday…review???


	7. Motive

7. Motive.

T: Double release today because I'm very busy for the next week and thus unable to update again until Friday at the earliest…also it seemed a little mean to leave things as they are at the end of this chapter! Despite the ominous sound of that warning things remain as they were in previous chapters apart from the slash content which is again on the rise! I own nothing you see here other than the plot bunny.

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_It has been a month since the fire and the physical scars have healed enough now that they have been allowed back to work. That they are doing paperwork rather than on a field assignment, that there are often long moments of silence in the office and that his partner can not find the will to always smile, are all signs that the mental scars are healing still. That everything is not yet 'ok.' _

_His partner has been watching him a great deal today, the heat of his unique eyes making him feel uncomfortable and yet so very secure at the same time. Eventually he tires of this conflict of emotions and, placing his pen to one side, he meets the other's gaze. _

_**Shock, nervous uncertainty, pleasure.**_

_The alien emotions burry deep into his heart, the fuzzy uncertainty they leave in their wake further intensifying the conflict he is currently feeling. _

"_Neh, Hisoka, do you want to go out for lunch after work? My treat?"_

_The enquiry sparks a flush of warmth in his heart, the embarrassment, on this occasion, making itself known in the harsh awakening of his curse marks rather than, as is usual, by the colouring of his cheeks. _

_Skin mottled with the reminder of one they are both trying so desperately to forget he breaks eye contact and replies,_

"_Baka, you've not got enough money left this month to feed yourself let alone treat me."_

………………………………………………………………………………….

_It has been half a year since Kyoto and at last the psychological scars begin to recede, at last it seems as though everything might just get back to 'normal'._

_As has become habit in the last month he is spending his Sunday at Tsuzuki's house, teaching his partner how to cook without poisoning those he is attempting to feed and simply spending time in the other's company._

_They are currently splayed out in Tsuzuki's garden indulging in the tranquillity of the location and the warmth of the summer sun._

"_Your hair is getting long." His partner remarks as he leans over and brushes the bangs from out of his eyes. _

_He hovers like that for a little while, the expression on his face unreadable and his emotions restrained with a severity that the other has not used since the fire. Then Tsuzuki's hand drops from his hair to settle on his lips and his body is alight with the fierce insistence of the other's yearnings. _

_His partner opens his lips to give voice to these feelings, to change everything, and, with a predictability that he has come to despise, his curse marks flair into life. _

_He has only to see the slight tightening about Tsuzuki's eyes, to feel his emotional walls fall back into place, to know how much of a mistake has been to wear short sleeves today, to allow the other this close and, frantically scrabbling free the other's presence, he says, "I'd best go," before he teleports himself back to his own home. _

……………………………………………………………………………….

_It has been a year now since the fire and, on the surface, everything has at last returned to how it had been before that day. Beneath this veneer lurked so many uncertainties, the festering hesitance of words not spoken and the blooded edges of scars that had again to break open._

_Today he and his partner had gotten into a foolish argument about his recent habit of closing in on himself and, rather than address the thing as an adult should, he had run away. _

_Full of uncontrollable anger he'd thrown about every object that he could get his hands on, the rush of endorphins he got each time one of these objects smashed making everything somehow 'okay'._

_Eventually he'd come back to himself and, ashamed for taking such a childish action, he'd begun to clear the mess away. _

_While picking up one of the more sizable chunks of china he'd managed to slice his wrist deep enough that it has taken time for his powers to heal the wound. Rather than continue to bleed on the floor he'd taken himself to his bathroom and placed the offending limb over the sink._

_Staring at the gaping wound, at the ever decreasing flow of blood coming from the thing, a thought had come into his head._

_At first the thought had seemed so very foolish that he'd given it only the barest of attention, yet, little by little, he'd seen the rational contained within it…had seen how much simpler everything would be if he could make the thought a reality. _

_Once his wound is all but healed he fetches a piece of paper, the remaining traces of blood on his fingers leaving an impression that he does not register until he has finished his note and it becomes too late to throw the thing away._

_Knowing well how his partner's mind works he sticks the note to the mirror above the bathroom sink and, once he has packed the little he will need for his journey, he makes his way to the record office._

_Once he has the information he needs he sets out towards his new goal and, hopefully, his new life. _

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T: see you in the next chapter!!


	8. Strength

8. Strength.

T: part two of today's double release and I'd advise you to go back to that chapter if you wish explanation/warnings. Plot mine, characters not.

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Finding some hidden well of strength he forces himself up onto his feet and informs the other,

"I will not let you win."

The other opens _his_ lips to respond, to inform him that it is far too late for such aimless bravado and he uses this instant to again 'strike'.

The psychic resonance proves strong enough this time to draw blood and the other glances at the liquid as some alien thing before _he_ remarks,

"It is still not enough, bouya."

The other makes another firm gesture with _his _hands and the skin beneath his curse marks begins to break open.

He can feel the pain as this occurs, can feel the odd heat of his blood as it begins to coat his limbs, yet they are as the faintest sensations at the very corners of his mind.

"I will not let you win." He repeats as he begins to close the distance between them.

"Why continue to push, bouya, why not simply give in to the inevitable?" He enquires, the confidence drained at last from his voice.

Again he utters the words, "I will not let you win," as he uses the force of his 'weapon' to hold the other in place and stretches out his blooded fingers in order to paint _him_ in his blood.

"What are you doing?" _he_ enquires, the barest tremor in _his_ voice betraying the fear that begins to dominate _his_ emotions.

Feeling powerful and, for the very first time, completely in control of his destiny, he replies, "Exterminating a particularly resilient nuisance," before he returns to the task in hand.

……………………………………………………………………………

Once they had arrived in Tokyo Watari had gleefully secured himself a computer and exclaimed,

"Now the fun begins!"

The 'fun' had, on further prodding, proven to be the hacking of the computers at Tokyo general hospital for what the scientist had called 'research purposes'.

The genki one has just begun to hum quietly to himself when suddenly his back tenses and, his mood sobering all but instantly, he says, "You need to see this, Tsu," as he turns the monitor towards him.

On the screen is a detailed log of incoming emergency patients and he is about to enquire as to why the other is showing him such a thing when he spots first Muraki's name and then the description of the 'unidentified male' that'd been brought in with the man.

He is on his feet and half the way out of the door before Watari manages to catch him and, his voice oh so patient, says,

"You're not going to get anywhere charging in head first, Tsu. Give me a few minutes and I'll get us a way in."

Five minutes later he is hovering at Watari's side, listening to the scientist give over their cover story to the individual manning the hospital reception desk.

The gentleman is nodding his head and, after typing a few things into his computer, says,

"The patient is on ward 2 room number 29. Dr Irani should still be with him and he should be able to answer any questions you have."

"Thank you." Watari remarks as he bows politely to the other.

The scientist hesitates a moment outside of the room they have been directed towards and, looking him in the eyes, enquires,

"Are you going to be all right with this, Tsu?"

"I'm going to have to be."

The scientist nods and, opening the door, steps into the ward beyond.

……………………………………………………………………….

Dr Irani proves to be a man in his late fifties with a ruddy completion that hints at a dangerously high blood pressure.

He focuses on this fact, on the perspiration all but streaming down the sides of the man's face, this in an attempt to distract his mind from the bloodied figure curled tight on the bed and the odd sound that comes from over his shoulder and Tsuzuki suppresses what would certainly have proven to be a gasp of horror.

"Dr Irani, I am Dr Watari from Kyoto hospital." He remarks as he bows politely to the other.

The doctor returns the gesture and then enquires,

"Is this patient known to you then?"

"That is correct. His name is Nando Juni and he was my patient until he decided to run away to the city and make a 'go of things.'"

"How did you learn that he was here?"

"My aid went to Tokyo in pursuit of Nando-san the day after the child fled and has been searching for him ever since." He gestures towards Tsuzuki and, seemingly catching onto his meaning, the other smiles shakily and says,

"Luckily one of my contacts spotted him being wheeled out of the hotel and I managed to get Watari-san to him before his condition became any worse."

"Then the markings on his skin…"

"A complex hereditary illness that I've spent my life researching and still barely understand." Irani-san looks a little perturbed for being interrupted but, after a moment of thought, enquires,

"Is it possible that this illness is contagious?"

There is something in the intonation of the doctor's voice that sets warnings bells in his head and, choosing to hedge his bests, he responds,

"It is possible."

"There was another individual brought in with Nando-san who also bares these markings on his skin."

"I would guess from the way that you talk of this other that they are more than another patient, is that the case?"

"It is. The man in question is a Muraki Kazutaka, a fellow resident of this hospital and a close personal friend."

"Would I be able to see Muraki-san?"

"Of course." The other responds as he gestures for him to follow.

He has just gotten to the doorway when he turns and says,

"It's probably best that you stay with Nando-san."

There is genuine gratitude in Tsuzuki's eyes once he has given over this 'command' and he flashes the other a hidden smile before he continues after Dr Irani

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T: So I'll see you Fri! Review??


	9. End

9. End.

T: A day early because I found some spare time!!! See the title?? Yep this is the very last chapter! In the tradition of my last chapters of late all the warnings go up a notch and there is one lose end left over because it's slightly more 'real' that way! I own nothing that you see here other than the plot bunny.

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For an instant after being left alone with his partner he does not move, for he is afraid, somehow, of making things even worse than they are currently.

Then a muffled noise of agitation leaves his partner's lips and an instant later he is there at the other's side, his hands tangling into Hisoka's and squeezing the blood soaked hand as tightly as he dares.

A whispered sound that may or may not be his name and then Hisoka's eyelids are twitching wildly in a bit to open.

With his free hand he smoothes away the other's bangs and, his voice full of a shaky vulnerability that he had hoped to keep at bay, he says,

"It's alright, go back to sleep, Hisoka."

The boy's grip tightens about his hand and, his voice still little more than a whisper, he says,

"Forgive me,"

His heart ceases at that and, leaning down to press a kiss to the other's forehead, he says,

"Of course."

A little of the other's agitation seems to fade at that and, his grip loosening just barely, Hisoka falls again into silence.

Feeling somewhat more 'himself' he gently extricates his hand from his partner's grip and, securing himself a chair, 'pitches down' at Hisoka's side.

Watari re-appears a moment later and, once assured that the other is now alone, he enquires,

"So what happened?"

"It seems that Bon and Muraki has found a way to not only get the curse to work on Bon's 'immortal' soul but also to make it stronger than it was before. It also seems that Muraki has fallen victim to the curse."

"Something you think that Hisoka played a part in?"

"It sounds foolish, I know, especially considering offensive magic really isn't Bon's thing, but he's had years to memorise every loop and swirl that goes into the making of that curse."

"In otherwords you think that it was the symbols of the curse, rather than Muraki's 'gift' that gave it its power?"

"It's the only theory that makes sense given…" The scientist's mood, already fairly macabre, darkens and, fearful of the reply, he enquires,

"Given what, Watari?"

"Given that the thing was painted onto Muraki with blood that, if we ran a DNA test on it, I am assured would prove to be Bon's."

"Then justice has been served." He is certain that the words sound callous, that perhaps he should pretend to feel some form of compassion, yet he is also assured that Watari will understand well why he can not muster such geniality and not judge him for the choice.

It is a belief that is strengthened a moment later when a gentle smile lights the scientist's face and he says,

"Indeed it has."

He allows the fresh levity within the atmosphere to linger as long as his patience will allow and then he enquires,

"Will this new curse do to him what the old one did?"

"I wish I could give you a clear answer either way, Tsu, but this is new ground for me and thus I can not be certain."

"I see." He returns his attention back to his partner then and bending down to press his forehead against the Hisoka's, he says, "Don't let him win, Hisoka, not now," his voice dropped down into a whisper.

"If you want to take him back to the infirmary I'll cover over our tracks here." The scientist remarks after a few minutes.

"Thank you, Watari."

"Don't mention it."

………………………………………………………………………………………

He feels unbearably hot, as though there is an inferno burning its way through his bloodstream that he can not staunch, a sensation that he recalls well from the years before his death.

Perhaps he had not died at all.

Perhaps his enrolment as a Shinigami, his introduction to his new 'family' and even Tsuzuki had been little more than a fever induced hallucination.

Why, after all, would someone like Tsuzuki wish to befriend a monster such as himself?

Why would he sacrifice so much just for the sake of that monster's happiness?

Why would he have begun to love that monster?

Thinking on it now it seemed so very obvious that the matter had just been a dream.

A life such as that was not, after all, meant for one such as himself.

He hates that that thought brings tears to his eyes and that his traitorous mind creates the sensation of warm fingers brushing those tears away.

Worst of all though is the voice that follows an instant later; a voice full of warmth, concern, love and the lurking shadow of a pain that might never be forgotten.

"There's no need for that now, is there?" The voice enquires as the fingers dip to brush at his cheek, "It's over, after all."

The touch is coursing emotions through his body, emotions that he had felt only ever in the 'unreality' of that other life and, desperate to rid himself of the bitter sweet torture that they represent, he forces his eyes open.

For an instant his body refuses to give over even the meagre energy needed to focus his eyesight and the world before him remains little more than a kaleidoscope of blurs.

Then random objects begin sliding into focus; a half eaten tray of food settled on the table at his bedside, the intravenous drip pushed hard into his left wrist as well as the fresh layer of skin that has healed about the needle, a fine fingered hand curled tight about his right bicep and the head of messy brown hair pressed but a breath from the angle of his right hip.

His arm trembling for the shear effort he lifts his right hand to touch that hair, to prove to himself, once and for all, if the other is real or no.

He is given an instant to take in the silky texture of the other's hair and then, most likely alerted to his conscious state by the gesture, the other has lifted his head up and away from his grasp.

Violet eyes blink at him with a lazy confusion and, though it is as agony to do as such, he utters the other's name.

Not the stifled formality of his family name but rather the gentle familiarity of his given name.

Those violet eyes fill with desire and, the voice whispers his own name before hot, insistent, lips claim his own.

The touch makes him feel 'alive' again and he pulls himself tight against it, responds with an ardour that he had never believed he would feel.

It is the other that eventually puts an end to the kiss and, settling his head into the crook of his neck, he says,

"We should wait until you are better."

He nods a response and, feeling almost as though he could fly, he says,

"I love you, Asato."

He feels the other's smile bloom against his skin and, but a breath later, he says,

"I love you also, Hisoka."

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T: Review?


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